


Lethdor -- A Message

by MaureenLycaon



Category: World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft: Warlords of Draenor - Fandom
Genre: Original Character(s), Original Player Characters, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaureenLycaon/pseuds/MaureenLycaon
Summary: At the garrison, Lethdor finally gets some good news.





	Lethdor -- A Message

**Author's Note:**

> (Lethdor gets the letter he didn't dare hope he'd receive.
> 
> Copyright disclaimer: the Warcraft universe and games belong to Blizzard Entertainment. Only the interpretation and these particular words belong to me, Maureen Lycaon. No copyright challenge intended.)

"Courier for you, mon," the troll said. "'E's at the gate. From Commander Ugoki, he says. Probably important."

Lethdor had been discussing a nearby ogre outpost with his war-master, Ruja, and the garrison sub-commander, a Frostwolf named Kamgald Ice-eye. He looked up, sighed and nodded. "Very well. Tell him I'll be there momentarily." To his officers, "Excuse me."

He stoically ignored the blast of frigid air that greeted him as he left the warm interior of the garrison's hall and stepped outside. He'd put on his warmest coat over his formal robe, but the icy wind still crept in like fel corruption through every seam and every opening in his clothes: down his neck under the hat and up his wrists above the gloves and his shins at the top of his boots. 

Large, feathery flakes of snow were falling thickly from the leaden sky in a way that threatened a full-scale blizzard by nightfall. Faen must be riding through it right now as she patrolled the perimeter of the garrison. A twinge of worry gnawed at Lethdor's mind. _She'll come back in an hour or two, before it gets bad. Besides, she's got that Frostfire orc Korful Battlefang with her. She won't let her stay out too long in this weather._

Slush slurped against Lethdor's boots as he made his way around heaps of shoveled snow, construction debris and the occasional well-chewed bone. The sounds of orc peons hammering on the half-finished walls of the new supply tent filled the air as he walked past. A nearby wolf suddenly howled, to be joined by several others. Lethdor's ears flinched at the cacophony.

Halfway to the gates, Nonethas Redwing crossed paths with him -- probably back from the latrines; he was still tightening his belt. Lethdor squared his own shoulders and refused to let his gaze waver, all the while feeling his stomach knot. But Nonethas moved out of his way without meeting his eyes this time. 

Lethdor's keen ears picked up no speech. Even the trolls barely spoke to each other as they worked or stood guard, long ears down.

His skin prickled as he felt eyes on his back. Nonethas's, probably. He kept walking, ignoring it, the falling snow, and the slush sucking at his boots.

The Frostwolf courier sat quietly on his white wolf in the falling snow. When their eyes met, he ordered the huge beast a step forward. Lethdor walked up to meet him, boots crunching in the inches-deep snow.

The courier reached into his jerkin, and drew out a long, pale object.

"From t' one calling himself Gen'ral Ugoki," he growled softly. Lethdor strained to understand his thick accent. "T's an important message for you." He extended his hand.

Lethdor took it in his own gloved hand -- a Horde message cylinder, carved bone with a metal stopper, sealed with red wax.

"Thank you," he said. "Inform the general that Commander Lethdor Morningshard has received it."

The courier nodded. "I will." With no further words, he turned his wolf and rode back into the swirling snow. Soon, Lethdor had lost sight of him in the blank whiteness.

He trudged back through the garrison, holding the unopened message tube -- not to the town hall, but to the little structure that served him and Faen as living quarters. He paused outside to stomp his boots free of snow, slush and probably less pleasant substances. Flopping down on the bed with a distinct lack of dignity, he took off his gloves to open the message tube.

 _Orders to Gorgrond?_ he wondered. _We may not even be up to defending this place for much longer._ They were running out of everything -- supplies, mana crystals, above all hope.

Breaking the wax seal, he shook the tube. The message fell out into the palm of his hand, a scroll of paper that took a moment to straighten out.

Moments later, his eyes widened. Dreading that he had misunderstood, he stopped and began reading it again from the beginning.

It seemed as if a weight the size of Mount Neverest were sliding off of his heart. He lowered his hand and took a deep breath, feeling warmth fill him for what felt like the first time in an eternity.

Blinking back near-tears of relief, he rolled the paper back up and put it back in the tube for when Faen returned from patrol.


End file.
